


Bruised Skin

by oloreaa



Series: Orbit [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Description of Injuries, Gen, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, a kiss? maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26024509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloreaa/pseuds/oloreaa
Summary: You got hurt and try to hide it from the Mandalorian. Will he freak out? Yeah. A kiss? Maybe. Set before Din finds the Child.Cross posted to Tumblr
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Series: Orbit [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888975
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	Bruised Skin

You stared at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. You looked terrible.  
The first signs of bruises were starting, the contrast against your skin visible, some of the wounds still bleeding.  
How in the galaxy should you explain this to Mando?  
It's not as if you could hide it. Especially not at close quarters.  
It had been unbelievably foolish in hindsight, and you were sure that if a few weeks passed you would laugh yourself sick at how utterly stupid the reason for your state was.  
Mando is on a hunt, has been away for a few days now, searching for someone that hid on Coruscant. With Coruscant a perfect hiding spot for every underbelly scoundrel, it had gone without saying that this was a bounty that could take days, if not a week until they were caught by the Mandalorian.  
Too many lifeforms, too many alleys where tracking fobs cannot help with locating, too many places where one can simply disappear in the crowd, blending in effortlessly.  
And you had been stuck on the surface for two days, only heading out for buying food, because you had gotten hurt last time. A bounty run you two have been collecting together had gone wrong, leaving you out of commission for a few days.  
Mando had thrown a fit (he later denied having it) when the blaster bolt had hit your side, knocking you off the balcony you had been standing on.  
It was honestly a miracle that you survived the fall, so you could understand why Mando had kept an extra close eye on you following that incident.  
Kriff.  
Your skin was littered in bruises, looking as if you have been thoroughly mauled. And not in the fun way. You thought about ice cubes, make up, straight up wearing a mask, but it did not change the fact that you had no chance, absolutely no chance at all to hide it from the Mandalorian.  
Speaking of the devil, a thud from the ramp of the Razor Crest alerted you to the return of your partner.  
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, already mentally preparing for the onslaught of questions that were sure to come.  
Waiting until the hiss of the carbonite freezer stopped, you stood there, leaning your hands against the sink, staring at your reflection, heart beating faster and faster the longer you waited.  
Your name was called.  
"In here!", you responded, and he acknowledged it with a grunt. Then, according to the sounds, he pulled himself up into the cockpit, presumably to start the ship.  
You decided to hop into the shower, to at least washing the blood away, so he will not explode on the spot when he saw you. At least, you hope so.  
Sighing when the water spray hit you, you did your best scrubbing off the dirt and the blood from your skin. The upside is that all the grime was off you, making you clean. The downside? The bruises are even more prominent now.  
Stepping out of the shower, drying yourself with the threadbare towels on the Crest and put on clean clothes, you stared into the mirror once more.  
A quiet knock came at the fresher door, making you flinch.  
"Can I come in?" the Mandalorian asked, voice low.  
You scrambled for any kind of composure, until you sighed silently and reached out, flicking the lock so the door could be opened.  
The Mandalorian got in, the already limited space becoming even smaller. He did not even look at you, shoulders hanging low, starting to strip off his rust coloured armour, another scratch added to the cuirass.  
Confrontation delayed.  
You slipped out of the door, leaving him to his shower, no words exchanged between the both of you except for a hum from each, acknowledging the other's presence. The armour clattered to the ground, slightly muffled through the closed durasteel door of the fresher. You stood in the lower bay of the Crest, fidgeting.  
The countdown had officially started until the Mandalorian would take notice of the bruises. And there was nowhere to escape the questions either, the hum of the hyperdrive working telling you everything you needed to know. You had already left Coruscant, the bounty collected, and the next one will come.  
Sighing heavily, you decided to just clean up some stuff, giving your hands something to do until the Mandalorian was finished. Hauling some boxes up into the cargo net above you, biceps straining under the weight, you almost let it fall when the fresher door suddendly opened.  
"Kriffing-," you cursed, quickly adjusting your hold on the heavy item, pushing it up.  
"You need any help?" The wry voice came behind you. "No, thank you, I can manage just fine." Unreasonably nervous, you tried to hide your face as best as you could, finally managing to get the box fixed.  
"I can see that," he said, sounding amused.  
"Yeah," you said lamely, internally debating whether or not to just turn around and deal with the consequences. You must have taken too long, because the Mandalorian seemed to have picked up the tension in your shoulders.  
"What's wrong?" he asked, voice even through the modulator.  
You winced, and bit your lip. "Promise not to get mad?" you attempted.  
"What is wrong." Every word was like a punch to the gut, activating your fight or flight response. How dare he use the bounty hunter tone on you?  
"Hey, unfair," you protested, already knowing that the fight was lost, "just promise you won't get mad, all right?"  
He was quiet for a long time. Then, an "okay" was spoken, the word hanging in the air between you.  
You slowly turned around, meeting the T-visor with defiance, chin high. The helmet was the only piece of beskar he wore, he was in long shirts and trousers, gloves on.  
He exhaled sharply, the modulator crackling.  
"Who did this to you?" he asked, stepping closer. Taking your chin in his gloved hand, the dichotomy between his gentle touch and the venom in his voice was jarring.  
You swallowed. "It's worse than it looks, Mando, really-"  
"I don't like to ask twice," the Mandalorian said quietly, tilting his helmet downwards, looking at you.  
Sighing, you chewed on the inside of your lip. "You said you wouldn't get mad," you accused weakly.  
He snapped your name with such a bite that you flinched, "Damn it, don't be a child. Just tell me."  
Even though you knew that the anger rolling off him was not directed at you, you were still nervous. It was not often that you were under his scrutiny - in this kind of context, anyways - and it was clear why he was the most sought after bounty hunter in the parsec. The way he commanded a room, by simply walking in, you trailing behind him, is already impressive enough on a normal day, but now?  
"I went out, and tried to cheat someone at cards, okay?" you got out, cheeks burning and heat rising in your chest, embarrassment churning inside, "They were pretty dumb, and did not even realise how much I got from them until I was walking away."  
Taking a deep breath, realizing how fast you were speaking, you tried to calm down a bit more. It was scary how his silent presence made you want to spill everything.  
"They were a Besalisk and two Togrutas, still young and reckless, and had way too many credits for me not to try it. They caught me and," you hesitated a bit, trying not to feel too humiliated, "they got a few good punches in?"  
The Mandalorian stared at you. "You call these a few good punches?" Gesturing at the many bruises on your arms, his shoulders drawn up together, sounding upset.  
You stared back, wanting to crawl into some hole in the ground and die of shame. "Yes?" you said, very aware of how you phrased it as a question.  
He was silent again, before sighing in defeat. "You need to take more care," he said, and went over to the medicine cabinet, taking out a packet of bacta. You chewed on your lip again, shuffling sheepishly.  
"Can you get up?"  
You nodded, then, following his cue, climbed up the ladder to the cockpit, and went into the captain's quarters. It was slightly messy, bed not made, and one of your trousers strewn across a chair, because you could not be bothered to put it away when you woke up. Sitting down on the bed, you waited until the Mandalorian came in, and sat down as well.  
Pulling off his gloves, and carefully set them aside, he opened the packet of bacta. Scooping it on his forefinger, he raised the hand to your face, and let it hover there, waiting for permission.  
You granted it by a small smile and a nod, and he applied the cool substance on your cheekbone, where one of the scrapes was. Then over your eyebrow, a big bruise already forming. Your breath hitched when he painstakingly put bacta on your bloody lip, dragging a thumb gently along your lower lip as if it was an apology for the slight sting.  
Both of you looked at each other, and you were pretty sure that he was meeting your eyes solemnly. He was probably frowning with a crease between his eyebrows, the way you had felt it late at night, touching his face.  
You wished to kiss him in that moment.  
Oh, how you wished that he would take off his helmet, pressing his lips against yours. You would offer every part of yourself to get a bit of his, getting to know the man beneath the beskar. You wanted to be able of seeing him with your soul, since you could not lay eyes on him.  
You wished to claim him, to have him in any way he would let you.  
He moved his hand before you could even think of saying anything, and you lowered your eyes, suddenly bashful. The Mandalorian did not comment, but applied bacta on your collarbone, then your shoulder, then the bruises on your forearms.  
"They messed you up real bad, huh?" he murmured, a tinge of anger still in his voice.  
"They'll heal, Mando. This is nothing permanent," you told him, hating how shaky you sounded, torn apart on the inside by his simple touch.  
"That's true," he conceded, "but I prefer you without bruises."  
Smiling at that, you peered at him, getting so close you could fancy seeing a silhouette of his face through the visor. "If I didn't know better, I would think that you care."  
"I care a lot," he simply said, "I care for you."  
Breath knocked out of your lungs, you stared at him, heat rushing to your cheeks.  
"Don't tease me, Mandalorian," you whispered, eyes wide, voice dropping so low you were not sure if he could hear it, "I would think that you mean it seriously."  
There it is.  
You have laid your heart out, laid it in front of him, giving him the power to crush you. It would not be the first time he rejected some of your more subtle advances, but this?  
This would put an end to the way you orbited around him, one way or another. All or nothing.  
The seconds between you seemed to stretch, and you were partially aware on how you held your breath, not daring enough to look at the T-visor. "I-," the Mandalorian said, before faltering. His hand dropped between you, the wounds forgotten. You could not remember if your heart ever beat as fast as now. Bracing yourself for the rejection, you clenched your jaw.  
"I mean it." Helmet visor trained on you, the words crackled quietly through the modulator.  
Letting out the breath you held in, relief obvious, you smiled at him. "Good," you told him, voice a soft whisper, "I care for you as well."  
"Close your eyes, please," he requested in the same hushed tone as you, "Don't open them." You did as he told you to, trembling slightly in anticipation. Despite his warning, you almost opened your eyes when his warm breath ghosted across your face.  
He inched in closer, waiting patiently when your noses brushed, giving you the chance of backing out again. Your heart swelled at the consideration he gave you even in a soul-baring moment like this, and it skipped a beat when you realized what he was giving you permission of.  
You could not help but smile when you pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, feeling him smiling into it as well.


End file.
